Met Once
by SpeakingThroughWrittenWords
Summary: Once, both were angels. Even if that was all they knew at the time.


**Met Once**

The angel hummed quietly to himself, relishing in the simple noise. _Music_—one of the newer inventions. He wished that he had a hand in it, the miraculous idea it turned out to be. But it was handled by superiors, those who would be able to handle such a difficult project. After being demoted into inanimate objects, the angel knew better then to think he would be able to deal with ideas or concepts. Not that it bothered him much, being unable to deal with animate objects. Everyone was needed for some project, not everyone could be given the important inventions. And the smaller ones all combined would end up being the foundations of the new world. The angel was ecstatic to be involved with it.

He shifted his shoulders slowly, stretching them from the tensed position they formerly had assumed. Achaiah was above him, working on _trees_. Occasionally, he would look up to see where the other had taken the idea. A living but inanimate creature. The angel was very much intrigued, but he was working on something he was calling _paint_. There were just too many textures that he liked, too many ideas running through mind for him to decide on something. It would be for changing the _colour_ of things. All of those miraculous _colours_! It was hard sometimes to concentrate on his own assignment. It would be wonderous to see all of the other objects, creatures, ideas, concepts! But he would continue to work on _paint_ until it was done. It might take some _Time_, a new concept that was still very much confusing, but he would be persistent.

He bent over his work, staring at his different notes calmly as he was going to begin again deciding the texture. Maybe there could be different species of _paint_? That way he would be able to enter in all of these ideas he had in mind. He slid a finger in the _blue_ and drew it forward, making a long streak across the surface in front of him. He brought his finger up, staring at what he had done. It felt smooth for a liquid type form and he was quite satisfied with it. He brought the rest of it forward, intent with documenting this finished product, although he was quite certain that he would continue experimenting.

Which was when the newcomer dropped down from above, hands coming down on to the angel's head and forcing him down into his _paint_. Spluttering, he pushed back, the weight no longer on his head. Hearing a snigger, he turned onto the offender.

The angel outright laughed as he turned to face him. His dark hair was somewhat over his dark eyes, which were stuck on what the _paint_ must have done to him. With a shake of his head, the _paint_ was gone. Looking at the other questioningly, the newcomer finally seemed to get a hold of himself, standing up instead of the strange posture he had been in earlier. After waiting for a few moments, the angel decided to commence with the conversation that must have been in the coming.

"Excuse me, was I in your way?" he asked, a little bit of his annoyance for being so bothered. The only reason he was not more so annoyed was because although such an experience was not as pleasant as he liked experiences to be, there was no lasting harm done. Still!

"Er." The other angel looked a bit embarrassed, but there was still a grin on his face. "No, not really. Sorry about that. I was just," he paused for a second, looking up at where he had dropped down from before looking back at him, "Just playing keep away."

"Keep away?" he blinked, never hearing of the term before. The newcomer nodded, as if it were obvious. "You mean, running away from someone?"

"Only in good fun!" the other angel assured him, wide grin still in place. "You don't mind me coming in here, do you? I didn't mean to interrupt anything. Did I interrupt something?"

He shook his head, because the other angel actually looked a bit upset that he might have done something wrong. "No, no, it is fine." Feeling a bit odd with the conversation, he stood up to meet the other's height.

"Good," the newcomer nodded, looking down and then around before resting his dark eyes on him again. "Jaoel," he finally introduced himself, almost as if it had just occurred to him, more then considering the conversation at a good moment for such an introduction.

"Aziraphale," the angel responded with a smile. Jaoel returned it.

"I better get going though," Jaoel mentioned, stepping back lightly as if he were about to dive down again. "Can't stay in one place for too long, they'll find me."

He made as if to fall, but hesitated.

"Can I come in here again?" Jaoel asked him, wings returning back to his sides.

Aziraphale thought of the _paint_ that had been all over him. He nodded. "Any time."

Jaoel's face broke out into an even wider smile and he was gone. Aziraphale watched where he had gone, then returned back to his work. He could not wait for Jaoel to return. And Jaoel did, many times.

Aziraphale helped organize everything after the War. He went through the lists of the Fallen. There was so much to fix now, so many positions that needed filling that they did not have enough people for. Inventing would now have to wait.

On the list, he saw the name of Jaoel. He bowed his head and wept.


End file.
